Part 56 (1/2)

I listened to him almost indifferently, saying that I was very glad for the governor's sake, and continued to wash a deep scratch on my left arm, using salt water to allay the irritation left by Acha's closely pared claws--the vixen.

But the scratch had not poisoned me; I was in fine physical condition; rehearsals had kept us all in trim; our animals, too, were in good shape; and the machinery started without a creak when, an hour later, Byram himself opened the box-office at the tent-door and began to sell tickets to an immense crowd for the first performance, which was set for two o'clock that afternoon.

I had had an unpleasant hour's work with the lions, during which Marghouz, a beast hitherto lazy and docile, had attempted to creep behind me. Again I had betrayed irritation; again the lions saw it, understood it, and remembered. Acha tore my sleeve; when I dragged Timour Melek's huge jaws apart he endured the operation patiently, but as soon as I gave the signal to retire he sprang snarling to the floor, mane on end, and held his ground, just long enough to defy me.

Poor devils! Who but I knew that they were right and I was wrong! Who but I understood what lack of freedom meant to the strong--meant to caged creatures, unrighteously deprived of liberty! Though born in captivity, wild things change nothing; they sleep by day, walk by night, follow as well as they can the instincts which a caged life cannot crush in them, nor a miserable, artificial existence obliterate.

They are right to resist.

I mentioned something of this to Speed as I was putting on my coat to go out, but he only scowled at me, saying: ”Your usefulness as a lion-tamer is ended, my friend; you are a fool to enter that cage again, and I'm going to tell Byram.”

”Don't spoil the governor's pleasure now,” I said, irritably; ”the old man is out there selling tickets with both hands, while little Griggs counts receipts in a stage whisper. Let him alone, Speed; I'm going to give it up soon, anyway--not now--not while the governor has a chance to make a little money; but soon--very soon. You are right; I can't control anything now--not even myself. I must give up my lions, after all.”

”When?” said Speed.

”Soon--I don't know. I'm tired--really tired. I want to go home.”

”Home! Have you one?” he asked, with a faint sneer of surprise.

”Yes; a rather extensive lodging, bounded east and west by two oceans, north by the lakes, south by the gulf. Landlord's a relation--my Uncle Sam.”

”Are you really going home, Scarlett?” he asked, curiously.

”I have nothing to keep me here, have I?”

”Not unless you choose to settle down and ... marry.”

I looked at him; presently my face began to redden; and, ”What do you mean?” I asked, angrily.

He replied, in a very mild voice, that he did not mean anything that might irritate me.

I said, ”Speed, don't mind my temper; I can't seem to help it any more; something has changed me, something has gone wrong.”

”Perhaps something has gone right,” he mused, looking up at the flying trapeze, where Jacqueline swung dangling above the tank, watching us with sea-blue eyes.

After a moment's thought I said: ”Speed, what the devil do you mean by that remark?”

”Now you're angry again,” he said, wearily.

”No, I'm not. Tell me what you mean.”

”Oh, what do you imagine I mean?” he retorted. ”Do you think I'm blind? Do you suppose I've watched you all these years and don't know you? Am I an a.s.s, Scarlett? Be fair; am I?”

”No; not an a.s.s,” I said.

”Then let me alone--unless you want plain speaking instead of a bray.”

”I do want it.”

”Which?”